


Remember Me as Devout

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Series: Don't Let's Start Adjacent [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bittersweet, Gen, Kuron is Shiro (Voltron)'s Clone, Light Angst, Lion possession, Platonic Relationships, Platonic VLD Week 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: Part ofDon't Let's Startand theBlack Lion Possessionfics.The Black Lion comes to Ryou with a request.  Ryou has some questions.





	1. Lion

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTE: If you haven't read [ this original fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8604676/chapters/19817161) and the [follow-up](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9566819/chapters/26000262) [fics](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12567996), you will be very confused. So go do that first.
> 
> To summarize: The lions can 'pilot' their paladins in times of emergency, essentially possessing them. Shiro has done this multiple times, mostly for silly reasons.

“I need to speak with you.”

Ryou looked up from the tablet in his lap and eyed Shiro in the doorway. “Good morning, brother dear. I slept well, thank you for asking. Whatever brings you to my bedroom so early? It’s only-” he paused to look at the clock. “5 AM, jeez.”

Rather than react to Ryou’s sarcasm, Shiro just blinked slowly. “This discussion is important. It is about my paladin.”

What now? Who was Shiro’s-

Oh. This wasn’t Shiro.

Immediately, Ryou straightened and kicked off his covers. “What’s wrong with Shiro? Will he not wake up?”

Black frowned and stepped forward. “That is not the case. Please, do not be loud. I do not wish for my paladin to wake.”

It took Ryou a long moment to realize the implications of that. Then his fingers dug into his covers, as his whole body went stiff. “Shiro doesn’t know you’re doing this?”

“No.”

“Why  _ not?” _

“If he knew, he would try and stop me.”

Eyes cold, Ryou looked the Black Lion over. Then he slowly pulled his lips back in a snarl. “You have five seconds to explain before I start screaming his name.”

Black frowned back. “Do no such thing.”

“Stop me.”

For a moment, temper flashed behind Shiro’s eyes. Well, tough shit. The Black Lion didn’t get to take Shiro’s body for joy rides while he slept. In all other cases, Shiro had been aware and consenting to this, or at least in danger. Even if the idea was creepy now to him now, Ryou could remember how Shiro felt about it.

But that didn’t give the Black Lion the right to pull this. No one was allowed to take over Shiro’s body without his awareness or permission. Not the team, not the lions, not the universe itself.

Ryou dared any of them to try.

“My paladin will be hurt soon,” Black finally said. “I wish to make it easier on him. You are the most able to help.”

Some of the ice in Ryou’s stomach melted. He swallowed hard, still deeply uncomfortable. But there was no sign of dishonesty in the Black Lion’s posture. Hell, Ryou wasn’t sure the lions were capable of lying. They were fairly straightforward beings.

So Ryou gave a slow nod and scooted back, giving Black room to sit. When he didn’t move, Ryou sighed and gestured next to him. “Sit down”

“Why?”

“Because it’s easier to talk to you that way. And if I don’t like what you say, I’ll punch Shiro awake right then.” Ryou crossed his arms. “I’m not listening otherwise.”

Black’s lips pressed thin, but he finally sat down where Ryou indicated. “You are stubborn. In a different way than my paladin.”

“Yeah, well, I’m different. You know that better than anyone. So, let’s talk, now that you want to.” Ryou lifted his chin, swallowing back against an old well of hurt. That didn’t matter right now. “What’s going on with Shiro?”

Glancing sideways at Ryou, Black took a deep breath. “He has been remembering more of his year as a prisoner. The dreams are becoming faster and more intense. Previously, I have… monitored them. If a memory is coming that his mind is not ready for, I replace it with another. You are all organic, and require as much time to rest as possible. It has helped to keep him alert and healthy.”

Ryou’s breath escaped him in a hiss. “I’m guessing Shiro doesn’t know about this.”

“If he did, he would not like it. He would ask me to stop, like he asks you to tell him more about the memories.” Black met his eyes directly. “You know why that is not safe.”

Yeah. He did.

“That’s not the same thing,” Ryou said, voice tightening. “You’ve been messing with his mind behind his back.”

Black blinked slowly. “I have done no such thing. I changed nothing. When he would dream of something he was not ready for, I would remind him of better memories and distract him.”

That wasn’t much better.

Grinding his teeth, Ryou took a deep breath, then let it out. “So, what’s that got to do with me? I can’t make him forget. I told him I didn’t want to talk about it. Which I don’t.”

“You remember too,” Black said. “You are best equipped to help him.”

Ryou stared at his lap, fingers still digging into the blankets. “Maybe I don’t remember. I don’t have every single memory of his. How would you know?”

There was a pause. “Maybe you do not. But you still understand best. You are the one most capable of helping.”

Bitterness choked Ryou.  He swallowed hard against it, and fought to keep his expression neutral. He hadn’t been capable enough for the Black Lion before. That wasn’t either of their faults. Ryou was just weak. One more fault in the way Haggar had made him.

It shouldn’t matter anyway. Ryou loved Yellow, in a way that was bright and warm and totally unique to them.  He didn’t need the bond with Black. Didn’t even want it, really.

But he’d loved Black, too. Loved the lion the way Shiro did. And those long weeks of wondering why he wasn’t good enough didn’t just go away. The wound had healed, but it had also scarred.

None of that mattered. Not really. If Shiro needed help, Ryou would be there. Every time.

So Ryou picked up his head and set his jaw. “What memories?”

Black met his eyes. “When he was denied food for not killing his opponents.”

Oh.

Yeah, that was a hard one.

It had been before the arm, so Ryou wasn’t sure his recollection was perfect. But Shiro had thought about it often, every time he killed for Haggar’s experiments. He knew what refusing meant.  That he would break again eventually, with almost no effort on Haggar’s part.

When it came down to his keeping his morals or dying a slow, painful death, Shiro had picked to live.

Sympathy suddenly welled in Ryou for the choice the Black Lion had made. It was easy to take the high ground and say the Black Lion should never touch Shiro’s head. But if Ryou had the ability to save Shiro from that memory, from knowing that painful truth about himself, he would have done the same thing. 

“Alright,” Ryou said. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, composing himself. He could all too clearly remember the ache in his belly, the way his hands shook all the time. The constant chill and how his skin sagged, like it was too big for him. The way his mind and temper had started to fray apart.

That was only the memory of a memory. How would Shiro feel?

“What do I do?” Ryou asked, quieter now. “I can’t stop him, and I can’t tell what he’s about to dream about.”

Black considered him. “No, you cannot. But if you already know of the memory, he will feel more comfortable talking to you about it, or accepting comfort. He may not do so for the others.”

“I can do that.” It was so little, such a minor thing. Ryou wasn’t sure how much it would help, but he could try.

Nodding, Black reached out and put a hand on top of Ryou’s head. “That is good. Thank you.”

Ryou paused, waiting for Black to move the hand away or at least do something. But there was nothing, like Black was stuck between a shoulder squeeze and patting Ryou’s head.

Finally, Ryou shook his head, knocking the hand away. “I’ll do this, but don’t try this again. Walking around while he’s sleeping. The dreams I understand, but his body isn’t yours to walk around in. Not unless he knows about it.”

Black stared, giving another of those slow blinks. “I will not harm my paladin.”

“That’s not the point. And you might, if he wakes up and isn’t in control.”

Head tilted, Black considered. “I will try not to. But it may be necessary in the future. This functionality exists for a reason.”

Ryou flashed his teeth again. “That doesn’t make it okay. It’s one thing if he’ll die on a mission. It’s another for you to wander around the castle. I get why, but don’t.”

“Is this an objective fact, or is it a result of your fears?” Black tilted his head the other way.

Fists tightening, Ryou swallowed against furious bile. “I wasn’t kidding about punching you to wake Shiro up.”

Black opened his mouth, then let out a sigh and nodded. “Alright. Perhaps you are not the correct person to ask that question.” He pushed off, hands folded behind his back. “You will be able to comfort him, however. You are very capable of that.”

“Well, I have to do something around here, since I can’t fly you.” Ryou bit down on his bottom lip, and wished he’d thought the comment through. It wasn’t like he could hide how much the rejection had hurt. He’d gone back over and over to mope and beg for answers, and each time he hadn’t gotten so much as a twitch. But even if he hadn’t answered, the Black Lion was certainly aware of him.

Black turned to face Ryou fully, considering him. “You are not my paladin. Though you look the same, and you have similar memories, you no longer value the qualities that make us compatible.”

“Who’s fault is  _ that?” _

Another slow blink. “It is not a fault. It simply is.”

Ryou shoved himself up, until he was nose to nose with Black. His twin’s eyes stared back, identical except for the stoic lack of reaction. It was easy to remember this wasn’t Shiro talking, because Shiro never looked like that. He was reserved, but not blank. Not uncaring.

Not unresponsive.

This stupid lion was  _ always _ unresponsive to Ryou.

“It is a fault,” Ryou told him, jabbing him right in the chest. Black took a step back and frowned warningly. Apparently he could wake Shiro like that. What a  _ tragedy. _ “It’s  _ your _ fault. Because I was like Shiro. I helped lead, I helped to guide, I focused on the big picture. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t be good enough, and I didn’t know why. I was never going to be able to be the Black Paladin, so I gave up on it. I picked something else, because everything my life had lead up to had been a lie in my head, and it was change or leave. And that’s on you.”

Black’s head tilted again. “I could not work for you. You know this. My paladin has told you why.”

“I didn’t know!” Ryou’s volume earned him another warning look, but he ignored that. “I couldn’t know. All I knew was that you didn’t want me. No matter how much I tried to help, I wasn’t enough. I’m broken, and I’m less, and I’m weaker. So, fine, maybe it is my fault. Whatever. What’s it even matter?” He turned away, still so tense he was shaking. “Fuck, I thought I was over this. Forget it. It’s not your problem.”

Sighing, Black stepped forward. He reached out, but Ryou pulled back, and the hand missed him completely. “When you first tried and you did not know, it could have worked. But after that, even if you had the energy, it would not have.”

Ryou flinched. “Oh.” Yeah, that made sense. Why accept the paler version? Literally.

“You had changed,” Black continued, as if he hadn’t spoken or moved. “This is not fault, even now. It is not fault that I do not work for many of the other paladins, or that I did not for the Princess. Very quickly after you learned of your origins, you became someone different. You do not have my paladin’s barriers, nor do you carry his weight the same way. By the time my paladin was retrieved, you were already Yellow’s, not mine. Do you find that an insult?”

Ryou took a deep breath, then let it go. “No. I don’t. Yellow is great.” He smiled softly, though it wobbled on the edges. When he looked away, his eyes burned, but he refused to wipe at them, not in front of Black. “Yellow is the best. But that didn’t make it easier to change.”

“It was not easy for the other paladins either,” Black pointed out. “Red’s previous paladin has never grown comfortable with me. We have always known we will change paladins, because you are organic, and will not last like we will. But the bond is not kind when you paladins need to change connections. That, I regret. I am sorry you were hurt. You are not mine, but you feel like him. I would not want to wound you any more than I do him.”

Ryou nodded jerkily. He felt tears build in his eyes, so he closed them hard. “Okay. I understand.”

“You make an excellent Yellow Paladin. It means to protect, to support, to hold up. You do all this for my paladin and the others, and for that I thank you.”

Finally rubbing over his closed lids, Ryou snorted. “I already agreed to do what you want. You don’t have to flatter me.”

“I would not. This is truth.”

Ryou’s throat closed up. “Fine. Thank you, then.” He finally opened his eyes again, and thankfully no tears fell. “I miss you. I wouldn’t go back. That’s Shiro’s. But I still do.”

Black’s eyes softened, and for the first time he really looked like Shiro. “I am glad you are happy where you are well suited. Thank you for helping my paladin. He loves you dearly.”

“I love him too, the big dummy.” Ryou cracked a watery smile. “Alright, go back to his room before he wakes up. And no more of this, or I’ll go to the hangar and kick your ass.”

Black blinked at him slowly. “That would be foolish.”

“I have access to power tools. Don’t try me. I’ll paint you pink.”

There was a twist to Black’s lips, which could be either annoyance or amusement. “Very well.” Black turned and started for the door, which opened earlier than they should have responded to a presence.

Before he walked through, a thought struck. Ryou stepped forward. “Woah, wait. One second. For Allura - you said did not. As in, past tense?”

Black glanced back over his shoulder, a curl to his lips. “She would have commanded me, before. I am not the castle to be controlled. I am the Black Lion.” The chin went up, eyes bright and proud. Shiro’s posture, always military straight and steady, looked positively regal. “But she has learned better.”

Oh. Huh. “Alright. Noted.”

With one last nod of his head, the Black Lion stepped away and the door shut.

Ryou stared after him for a long time, then pulled on a long sleeved shirt and darted out the door.

***

“Hey, buddy,” Ryou said, stepping into the Yellow Lion’s jaws. The lights came on, casing a warm glow over Ryou. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the warm, enthusiastic welcome he always got from Yellow.

The lions were so different in personality, in a way that was hard to explain. Black had been welcoming too, but in a more regal way. Like walking up to a king and being greeted with a smile. It was security of status and the weight of power and responsibility. Yellow, on the other hand, felt like a big, heavy hug. It could have been overwhelming, but Ryou loved it.

Settling into the pilot’s seat, Ryou brushed his fingers over the projected screen. Right now, all of them were dedicated to the cameras in the lion’s eyes, showing the view of the hangar. It was dark and still, since the day cycle still hadn’t started. It would soon, but right now it was like the world was still asleep.

“Sorry to wake you. I have a couple of questions, that’s all.” Ryou pulled his legs under him, curling comfortably into the seat.

There was a nudge in return, half encouragement and half fondness. It was like a huge cat was rubbing along his sides, nearly strong enough to bowl him over.

So, like an actual lion.

There was amusement at the thought, and a sense of surety and pride - Yellow was an actual lion, just not the kind they knew on Earth.

Well, fair enough.

Ryou patted one of the arm rests fondly, getting them both to focus again. “Can you tell when one of the other lions is, uh, in their paladin? Taking the reins. I don’t know the term for it.”

Curiosity bubbled up in the back of Ryou’s head. No, but Yellow wanted to know why it had come up.

“Uh, Black was in Shiro for a bit. He wanted to talk. To me.”

This time, the heavy pressure was on Ryou’s lap, like a dog resting their head on his knee. He had to resist the urge to reach down and scritch behind nonexistent ears. There was another nudge, encouraging.

Ryou smiled, but it fell away quickly. “I was just wondering, you know, if you would. Do that. To me. Take me over and control my body.”

He tired to phrase the question neutrally, but it was impossible. Yellow was in his head, and could feel the well of nerves and disgust. He could probably see Ryou’s memories, of his hand on the pad and the painful jolt of electricity. How his mind had faded away, totally asleep, while his body did whatever bidding he was commanded to do. How there had been no fight, nothing in the way as he tried to kill his brother, and then how helpless he was after.

Ryou had been a doll, a puppet. Empty, lifeless, unmoving except when the right strings were pulled.

It was everything he hated. Every victory he’d gained, every change he’d made, every skill he’d learned. Gone, simple as that.

Even knowing Yellow would never do anything to hurt him, the idea of losing control like that made Ryou physically sick.

Immediately, the warm pressure moved and wrapped around him, draped over his shoulders and arms like a hug. Ryou leaned forward, as if there was a shoulder to rest his head on, but he only found air.

Reassurance flowed down the bond, warm and thick like syrup in the sun. No, Yellow would not do that. Not when Ryou felt like this.

There was hesitation, then a memory.

_ Running, each breath measured and deep. This form was organic, and required constant atmospheric intake and release. Each step was so light, and the movements were slugging as nerves fired to muscles. _

_ This confinement to so slight a form was uncomfortable, but necessary. Inside the bond, his paladin responded sluggishly. Dazed. The blow to the head had rendered Gyrgan unable to focus and keep balanced. Even now, he was only somewhat aware of his environment. _

_ Yellow was too far away to come to his paladin. But Red was near, and so Yellow would go to them. He could see the other lion flying closer, piloted by the Altean King. They would see his paladin cared for. But first, Gyrgan needed to get there, and so Yellow ran. _

Jerking, Ryou pulled away. It was just a memory, not control. Not his body, not his time. But even so, Ryou pushed himself to his feet, instinctively trying to get away. He stumbled and caught himself on the console. His whole body shook like he had a terrible fever, and his blood pounded in his ears.

Yellow’s presence withdrew, immediately apologetic. Ryou was still aware of him - it was impossible not to be, between the bond and being inside the lion. But Yellow was as far away as he could be, giving Ryou space.

Slowly, he slid down to the floor, still shaking. “Sorry,” Ryou managed, voice raged. He pressed his forehead to his knees and took several deep breaths. The memories of the arm’s control pressed at him like a physical pressure, and for a moment he could almost hear the static that had filled his head once.

Bit by bit, Ryou was able to calm himself. He focused entirely on his breathing and the slight chill of the hangar. Sensory moments to remind him of what was the present.

Finally, he was able to pick his head up. “Sorry.”

Yellow crept closer again, tentative and apologetic. The presence nudged his shoulders, then rubbed along his back to his other side.

There was no need for an apology, it seemed. Yellow understood.

“I know it can be useful. Life saving, even.” Ryou’s eyes burned again, so he ducked his head. Damn everything. This was more than enough teary-eyed bullshit for one day. “But I don’t like it.”

There was a pause, anticipatory. He didn’t like it, but should Yellow never do it?

Ryou sighed. “Only last case scenarios. Please. If I will die soon if you don’t. I’d rather have you help than die, but if it’s just a concussion like with Gyrgan? Leave it.”

The nudge came again, and a rumble that filled all his senses. A purr. Ryou smiled back, and he held out his hand. The pressure nudged it next, like a cat scent marking.

_ Mine, _ the gesture said.

“Yeah, I am.” Ryou smiled, his shoulders relaxing. “Thank you for understanding. I know it’s not weird for you guys. But- well, I’ve had enough of people making choices for me. I can do it for myself.”

This time, the pressure was steady and constant, like Yellow was leaning into him. Ryou pushed back into the pressure, though he felt no actual resistance.

They stayed like that for several minutes, Ryou drinking in the easy comfort that Yellow offered.

Black could be affectionate in his own way. But he was right - this was how Ryou worked. He was happier here.

“Thank you. For choosing me.”

There was a purr back, warm and welcoming.

Ryou luxuriated in that, then pushed himself up. “Alright, I need to catch Allura before she goes to breakfast. I’ve got some news that I can’t share in front of Shiro. But I’ll see you later.”

The presence followed him to the Yellow Lion’s jaws, then let him go. Even as he walked away, Ryou could hear the phantom purring.

Things were going to go wrong soon. The fact that the Black Lion had come to Ryou to warn him proved that.

But for now, Ryou was feeling pretty good.

They’d get through the rest.


	2. Shiro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not sure what's being discussed, go ahead and read Rebuild All Your Ruins

A jolt woke Ryou.

He snapped awake with a gasp, staring at the ceiling.  For a moment, he’d felt like he was falling, or like he’d been tossed onto bed bounced back into the air.  But he was totally still, except for the way his chest heaved and his fingers gripped frantically at the covers.

A dream?  He didn’t remember dreaming, but maybe-

A nudge cut off his thoughts, jabbing him in the middle of the chest. 

Ryou shoved forward instinctively, like he could buck off whatever was on him.  But already he could tell it wasn’t a physical blow.

“Yellow?”  He rubbed over his chest, lips pulled down an a dark frown.  “Is something wrong?” He didn’t hear any sirens. For that matter, he didn’t hear anything at all.  There were no footsteps, no movement in his room - nothing to say there was someone sneaking around.

There was another shove, this time to his shoulder.  Ryou winced as he was nearly jolted off the side of the bed.

Ryou sent back a sulky thought, but obediently stood up.  Fatigue pulled at him, and his bed looked so damn comfy, but apparently it was time to wake up.

“Are you doing this to Hunk, too?” He grumbled, crossing his arms against the slight chill.  The castle was plenty warm, but Ryou already missed his blankets. It wasn’t often he got good, deep, uninterrupted sleep.  He had no idea why Yellow was pulling him from that.

There was a distinctly negative feel in response, then a sense of urgency.  But it was distant, passionless. Like it wasn’t coming from Yellow himself.

Another shove sensation hit his back.

“Alright, alright.  You want me somewhere.  Do I need to get into my armor?”

The negative feeling hit again, even more impatient.  No, apparently there wasn’t time for that.

So instead Ryou shoved his feet into the bright yellow lion slippers, then shuffled his way out of his room.  Automatically, he turned toward the hangar, only to get shoved the other way.

Toward where everyone else’s rooms were.

“Huh.”  Ryou walked along carefully, glancing around him.  His ears strained for any noise - footsteps, breathing, scraping.

Instead, he heard a muffled whimper.

Ryou froze in place, heart pounding in his throat.  It was downright eerie to hear the distant groan. Worse, the castle really could be haunted, albeit by corrupted systems and Galra general’s memories.

But the noise didn’t come from farther down the hallway.  It came from the wall next to Ryou. 

From Shiro’s room.

Oh.  Ryou knew what was happening, now.

“Black asked you to get me?”

An affirmative, this time.  Something brushed along his leg and hips, like a giant cat headbutting him.

Ryou’s fingers skimmed through the imaginary fur, trying to pet what wasn’t there.  “Thanks. I’ll be okay. Let’s go help, huh?”

With that, Ryou entered the code for Shiro’s room, still more familiar than the one he used for his own.

As soon as the door opened, there was another groan, breathy and pitched up.  Shiro was curled in a tight ball on the bed, shivering hard. His blanket had been kicked off already, bunched at the foot of his bed.  In the low light, there was a visible sheen of sweat that stuck his bangs to his forehead. He was tucked in as tightly as he could be, protecting his stomach and chest even in his sleep.

Ryou’s heart ached at just the sight.

He stepped inside, and the door closed behind him.  The meager light from the hallway immediately cut off, leaving him in near perfect darkness.  It made Shiro’s whimper all the more eerie.

Ryou lit his hand, careful to keep it away from anything important.  Even at a distance, the heat from the arm could burn sensitive documents of fabric.  Instead, Ryou held his palm over Shiro’s desk, looking for-

Aha.  A little flashlight, right where Ryou thought it was.  He was lucky that Shiro was so finicky about his things, otherwise who knew where this thing would be.

Ryou clicked it on with his left hand and set it on the desks, facing Shiro.  The light didn’t wake him, but it did highlight the dark bags under his eyes and the deep furrows in his brows.  He shivered harder, like he had a terrible fever, and tried to curl in tighter.

Even just looking at him, Ryou could imagine what Shiro was dreaming of.  A specific memory, and the way that every chill had felt so much worse the less food he got.  How he hadn’t been able to keep his hands steady, no matter how hard he tensed. The way he felt constantly lightheaded and weighed down at once.

Starvation would do that.

Ryou considered throwing things from the desk to wake Shiro, but it felt cruel. So instead he took a few steps closer, and hissed out, “Shiro!”

There was no response, just like to the light.  Shiro let out another pained whimper. One hand curled into the fabric just above his stomach, like he wanted to claw it out.

“Shiro!”  Ryou tried again, swallowing hard.  Seeing the open pain on his brother’s face sent a jolt of pain through his chest, like a long needle had just been stabbed through him.  “Shiro, come on. Wake up!”

Nothing.

Shit.

Ryou swallowed hard, then slowly reached out and nudged Shiro’s shoulder.

The effect was immediate.  Shiro’s eyes snapped open, and he lashed out with his right arm.  It didn’t light, probably only because he was dreaming of something before he got the arm.

Ryou was ready for the blow, and he got his own prosthesis up in time.  They met in a loud clash of metal on metal. 

“Shiro!”  He pushed the arm away.  “It’s okay. This is the castle.  It’s Ryou.”

For a long moment, there was no recognition in Shiro’s eyes, only fight and flight.  He stayed tense and coiled on his bed, prepared to strike.

Ryou swallowed hard, discomforted by the sight.  It must be close to how Shiro had felt looking at him just a few weeks ago.

“Wake up,” Ryou repeated, just like Shiro had said to him.  “Please.” Clan reflection. Twin.

Finally, Shiro blinked hard, and reality crashed back into him.  He pulled away, shaking again. “Shit!” His breathing came in rough pants, and he scrambled away as he dropped his arm.  “Ryou, I could have hurt you. What the fuck are you doing here? What’s wrong?”

Ryou opened his mouth, but then bit his tongue.  He’d telling Shiro about the Black Lion in the morning.  That was a little too much right now. “I was up, and I heard you through the wall.  You okay?”

“You- shit.”  Shiro curled up again, his knees pressed to his chest.  “That loud? Sorry. I’m okay.”

“Bullshit.”  Ryou stepped closer again, but Shiro tensed up hard.  He moved back, hands up and open. “That’s bull. Can I sit?”

Shiro looked away, jaw set.  “I’m fine. It’s just a nightmare.  I think you’re familiar with them.”

Brows up, Ryou tilted his head.  “I am, yup. Specifically yours. Want to talk about it?”

“Why?”  Shiro’s lips pulled back, and his fingers dug into the sheets below him.  That same feverish, wild light burned behind his eyes, like a wounded animal backed against a wall. Like Ryou was a threat. “What could that possibly help?  I want you to go the hell away. Go back to bed.”

Ryou took a deep breath, then let it out.  “You can’t scare me,” he reminded, voice gentling.  “Nothing you can say will surprise me. I remember, Shiro.  You don’t have to deal with this alone.”

“It was before the arm,” Shiro admitted, voice catching as his throat tightened.  “So you might not know. You might not remember. And I just want… I want to just handle this alone, and…” 

Considering him, Ryou hesitated.  “There’s nothing you can tell me that’ll scare me off.  Even if I don’t remember it. You’re still my brother, and I still know you.  If you really want me to go, I will, but… one sentence. See if I know it.”

Shiro’s eyes tracked up to Ryou.  The only light of the room was still that single, dinky flashlight that had been in the packet Shiro had left with Keith.  The harsh light deepened the shadows and illuminated too much of what it shone on. It made the scar stand out more, showed where Shiro’s face and neck were gaunt instead of muscled.  How little fat he still had on his body, even now.

“I wouldn’t kill,” Shiro said, barely audible.  “So they stopped feeding me.”

Ryou nodded slowly, his heart aching.  “Until you did. Did you remember everything before I woke you?”

Shiro’s eyes slammed closed.  “Yeah.” The world came out cracked and wet, a guilty confession.  “I think so.”

When he’d earned his meal a week later.  When he’d killed, not by accident, not out of self-defense, but just to eat.  Just to make the empty feeling go away.

Ryou sat down slowly, watching Shiro carefully for a rejection.  “You remember the thin alien at the end?”

This time, Shiro didn’t even try to speak.  He nodded jerkily, face twisting.

“Can I touch you?”

“No.”

Ryou pulled his hand back.  “Okay. I won’t.” Instead he leaned against the shelving at the head of the bed.  “I remember it too. How much it hurt. How cold you were. Do you want an extra blanket?”

Finally, Shiro’s eyes snapped to him.  “I killed them! Do I want a fucking- I’m going to reward myself after that by getting a big, fluffy blanket?  Fuck off, Ryou!”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, well, I remembered now.”  Shiro buried his face in both hands, hiding his expressions.  “I remembered what I did.”

Ryou swallowed hard, taking in the small, shaking form.  He ached to pull Shiro into his arms and comfort him, but it wouldn’t help.  Not until Shiro asked for it. 

He deserved his autonomy, even when it wasn’t what would help him.  Even when Ryou wanted something else.

So instead Ryou nodded.  “You did. You did because you were hungry, and you were dying.  That’s still self defense, Shiro.”

“They weren’t going to kill me.  They could barely hold their weapon.”  Shiro’s breathing came out wet and choppy.  “I was never in any danger. They were a child.”

And that was the short of it.

Shiro had killed a child.  With full, complete knowledge he was going to do it.  When the child was essentially helpless, no matter how armed they were.

“You didn’t want to,” Ryou said, his own throat tightening.  He closed his eyes, and he could see the memory too. The burning frustration that this wasn’t even a fair fight.  Knowing he’d been offered this weak child like a lamb to slaughter, all to finally push him into taking a life on purpose.  How the blade had felt so heavy in his hands, and the resolve had weighed him down too.

The clarity of knowing he chose food over another person’s life.

The blood.

When Ryou opened his eyes, they were wet.

“You didn’t want to.”  This time, there was something desperate to the words.  “Those self-preservation instincts are powerful. You were dying, and you defended yourself.  Not against an attack, but against someone trying to kill you anyway. It was your life or his.”

“Then I should have died!”  Shiro’s fingers curled around his hair, tugging hard.  He curled in, forehead to his knees. “I should have been a good person and died so a child could live.”

Ryou’s eyes burned.  “I’m glad you didn’t,” he admitted.

Shiro stilled.

Then, fast as a snake, he shot forward.  He grabbed Ryou by the shirt and sent them both tumbling to the floor, Shiro on top.  They hit the ground hard, the metal cold and unyielding under Ryou’s back.

“Don’t you say that!”  Shiro snarled, yanking Ryou up then slamming him back down.  “That child didn’t deserve to be murdered for a meal. Don’t you fucking say that!”

Ryou grabbed onto Shiro’s hands, holding them firmly in place.  “Too bad,” he managed, voice choked from Shiro’s weight on top of him.  “I’m glad. You lived, Shiro. I want you to have lived.”

“But not the kid?”

“The kid would have died!”  It was cold, but the shock of the blunt wording stilled Shiro again.  “That alien kid was going to die no matter what. The next battle. Someone like Myzax would have slaughtered them.  You know that.”

Shiro finally stilled again, head limp and hair in his eyes.  “But it was me.”

“You didn’t deserve to die either.  You still don’t deserve to die.”

Curling in further, Shiro started to shake hard.  “It hurt so much.”

Ryou stayed flat on the ground, still not daring to touch Shiro.  Instead, he forced himself to watch the way his brother’s face crumpled, like watching a building collapse in slow motion.  “It was the Galra. It doesn’t matter how good a person you were or weren’t, Shiro. You can’t fight those instincts. Self-preservation is built in.  It’ll win if you give it long enough. Every time. Everyone breaks eventually.”

Shiro’s forehead hit the center of Ryou’s chest. The shaking was even worse, now, violent tremors that jerked his whole body.  “They broke me.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry, Shiro.”

The first sob broke through in a gasp, like someone had punched Shiro in the stomach.  Then next one choked through him, like he tried to swallow it back but couldn’t. 

After that, Shiro lost control.

That was the limit of what Ryou could take.  He wrapped his arms around Shiro and pulled him down.  “It’s okay,” he murmured, speaking over the sobbing. “It’s okay.  You wanted to live. That’s okay. You’re not a bad person.”

“B-but…” Shiro gasped out the word, stumbling and stuttering around his sobs.  “I k-killed-”

“You lived.”  Ryou held him even tighter, heart aching and heavily.  

In this, at least, he had an idea of what to say.  It was all the things he wished he could believe when he remembered Shiro’s captivity.  When he repeated them in his head, they felt hollow. Excuses, unreal, pathetic. But when he said them to Shiro, Ryou could mean them. 

“I’m glad you lived.” He breathed, passionate if choked by tears.  “You survived, and you came home. You deserve to live too. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, and you didn’t deserve to die.”

Shiro’s fingers dug into Ryou’s shirt.  He was crying so loudly it was impossible to tell if he could hear the words or not.  It was fully, open mouthed, wet gasps. Desperate and pained, like a wounded animal.

“You did enough,” Ryou continued, his own voice cracking.  “Even if you didn’t do everything. Even if you made mistakes.  You deserved to live. I’m glad you survived.”

The sobbing continued, so Ryou just held on and kept murmuring.  Most of it was nonsense - it’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here, you’re fine.  Since it didn’t seem to be hurting, and Ryou couldn’t keep quiet. It was a torrent of words that just kept tumbling out of his mouth.  They didn’t come from his head, but somewhere deep in his chest.

Eventually, Ryou sat up, pulling Shiro along with him.  He settled back against the side of the bed, rocking them both gently and petting up and down Shiro’s back.

Time passed in a haze, as Ryou pressed his face into Shiro’s hair and just continued to comfort.  There was no way to keep track of the time, just the sound of Shiro’s open, broken weeping, and the stark spotlight of the flashlight on them.  It could have been minutes, and it could have been hours. It didn’t make a difference either way - Ryou wasn’t moving for the universe.

Finally, bit by bit, Shiro’s cries started to slow.  He buried his face deeper in Ryou’s shirt, like he was belatedly trying to hide the tears.  His fingers curled in the fabric like a small child.

“Hey there,” Ryou murmured, still rubbing circles into his back.  “Don’t back away from me now, okay? You don’t need to hide. I’m not scared of you.”

Sniffling, Shiro pulled back and wiped over his eyes.  “I made your chest gross,” he mumbled. The words, combined with his hangdog pout, made him look like a young boy.

Ryou pushed his bangs out of his face.  “I don’t give a fuck.”

A smile cracked over Shiro’s face, if reluctantly.  It fell away almost immediately, but it was there. “Sorry.  I hit you, and then I cried all over you.”

“Still don’t give a fuck.”  Ryou raised his brows. “I told you, you can’t scare me.  You don’t have to hide and apologize. I get it.”

“You do.  You remember it too, right?  Like you lived it.” Shiro’s eyes were too direct and too knowing.

Ryou looked away.  “Kinda. Hard to say if I perceive memories the same way, right?  I didn’t live them, I had them downloaded into my brain. Not really the same thing.”

“Close enough.”  Shiro’s shoulders slumped.  “Thank you, Ryou. This can’t be easy for you.”

Pulling him in again, Ryou snorted against the side of Shiro’s head.  “Wrong. This is the easiest thing in the world. It makes more sense when I’m talking to you.  When I think about it for me, it’s so heavy. Too big, like it’s hard to see around, and the shadow of it covers everything.  That year was terrible, what happened was terrible, so I must be terrible. But, Shiro - I see you. I know your head, and I know what you’ve done, and I know you.  You’re not terrible. You’re so, so good. Despite the terrible things.”

Another shiver ran through Shiro, a jerk like he’d just been hit with an electric shock.  “Some days I think you’re better than me.”

“How about we call it even?”  Ryou pet through Shiro’s hair.  “Maybe I am worse. Maybe it’s the Haggar in me.  But I can only be glad that you did what you did, Shiro.  It was so, so easy to die in that year. And you survived.  The universe would not be as good without you. Not to me.”

Shiro nodded slowly.  “I can’t switch perspectives like you do.  You didn’t do those things. You remember it, and I’m not saying you don’t feel like you did, but you didn’t.  You weren’t alive yet, probably. I can’t think of you doing those things, because it’s a lie. So I can’t see it from that angle.”

“Then just trust me.”  Ryou paused and considered him.  “Do you trust me?”

Nodding again, Shiro held on tighter.  “I do.”

Ryou closed his eyes.  “Then trust me in this.  Nothing you did was unforgivable.  You wouldn’t have done it in different circumstances.  Even if you made hard choices, even if you messed up sometimes, even if you acted out of pain, or hunger, or anger - you’re still a good person.”

Shiro took a deep, rattling breath, then sniffled again.  “Okay.”

They sat like that together, silent again.  This time, Ryou focused on Shiro’s breathing, still too fast and too ragged.

Finally, Shiro pulled back again, blinking rapidly.  His eyes shone in the harsh lighting. “And if I hadn’t survived, you wouldn’t be here, probably.”

Ryou’s brows rose, and his stomach flipped.  “That- that’s not why I’m saying this. You know that, right?  I’m glad you survived for you, and for Keith, and for the universe.  I’m not sad I exist, but that’s not why.”

“I know.”  Shiro rubbed over his cheeks, trying to wipe away the tear stains.  “I’m saying- that’s for me. I’m glad you exist. Despite how it happened, maybe it was worth it for you.”

Mouth open, Ryou stared at Shiro, who gave a thin, watery smile back.

Was Ryou worth Shiro having to take the life of a child?

His immediate reaction was no.  Never. That was never a choice anyone should have to make.  If it was between saving Ryou and a child right now, he’d tell Shiro to pick the kid.

Except…

Except that was the exact dilemma that Shiro was wrestling with too.  He’d made that choice, deliberately and personally. To deny his words would reflect on Shiro’s decision as well.

So Ryou leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together.  “Thank you. That-”

“Heavy, right?”  Shiro smiled, sad but understanding.  “But it’s true. I’m glad your alive. I don’t think I can be glad for me right now.  But I can be glad for you. That’s easier. And that’s what you were saying before, right?”

Not the exact same thing, but yes.

Ryou reached out and took Shiro’s hand, threading their fingers together.  “Yeah. I get that.”

Closing his eyes, Shiro leaned into the touch, and his breath finally evened out.  He wasn’t exactly relaxed, but he didn’t sound on the verge of a panic attack anymore.

“Think you can sleep tonight?” Ryou asked.

Shiro made a sulky, disagreeing noise.

Fair enough.

“Want to at least get back into your bed?”

Shiro groaned, but nodded.  He pulled back and stumbled to his feet, then offered a hand to Ryou.  “Yeah. Bed is good. You staying?”

“So long as you want me to, yeah.”  Ryou took the hand, then groaned and stretched his back.  “Ow. I’m getting old.”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro prodded at Ryou until he got under the covers.  “You’re at best three years old. Quit whining.”

Ryou made a noise like a whining dog, only to get another jab in the ribs.  He lifted the covers up, so Shiro could settle in next to him. “The aging process clearly went too far.  I’m old.”

Shiro snorted and settled in next to Ryou, head on his shoulder.  “You baby.” He took a deep breath, then let it go. “Thank you. For checking on me, and for staying. It can’t be easy.  You’re dealing with it all too.”

“Mmm, this is pretty therapeutic, if in the most convoluted way ever.”  Ryou threw an arm around Shiro’s shoulders. “Stop feeling guilty and just accept the damn comfort for once.”

That earned him a smile.  “Fine, fine.” Shiro settled in, eyes falling closed.  “Love you, clan reflection.”

“Love you too.”

There was a pause.  “And if I tried to put on a screen to work…?”

“I will break it and possibly your fingers.”

That earned him a considering noise.  But despite the teasing, Shiro didn’t move.  Slowly, despite what he’d said before, his breathing evened out and he went limp.

Apparently crying took a lot out of Shiro.  Enough to knock him out despite the earlier nightmare.

“You know what’s sad?” Ryou murmured, too low to wake his brother.  “I know that’s the first time you’ve really cried over it. I’m glad you did.”

Predictably, there was no answer.

But Ryou felt like it helped anyway.

***

The alarm blared.

Ryou smacked up and over his head, where the console by his bed should be.  But he only hit blank shelving. Still smacking, Ryou groaned into his pillow.  “Shut up.”

“Alarm can’t hear you,” replied his pillow.

…What?

Ryou picked up his head, and found his face mere inches from Shiro’s.

Last night flooded back in a rush.  He dropped his head back down on Shiro’s shoulder as his brother turned off the alarm.

Unsurprisingly, he was still exhausted.  They both had to have been up for several hours, and both of them already had a hell of a sleep debt.

Still, it was time to face the day, so Ryou looked up again.  “How are you feeling?”

“Well enough,” Shiro replied.  Despite his words, he looked like a total mess - his eyes were sunken and his skin even paler than usual.  His cheeks were still stained from last night’s tears, and his hair was a total wreck.

…Yeah, screw this.

Ryou flopped down, pinning Shiro to the bed.  “Today is canceled.”

“I don’t think you have that authority.”

“Yeah, I do.”  Ryou rested his chin on Shiro’s chest.  “Because I’m going to go out to breakfast, and I’m going to tell everyone that last night I found you puking out your guts.  Now you’re asleep again, but you definitely need a sick day, and I probably have it too by now.”

Shiro’s eyes went wide.  “We can’t- Ryou, no. There’s the Rebel organization, and planning the next attack, and mission prep, and-”

He cut off when Ryou put his hand over his mouth.  “No. Today is a sick day.”

“We can’t take off for every stupid nightmare.”

“And you haven’t.  But today? Yes.” Ryou stared back, chin raised and jaw set.  “Just once. Last night sucked, and you’ve earned one single day off to just rest.  Please.”

Shiro’s expression twisted, but he sighed.  “Fine.” And the fact that he gave in so quickly was proof enough he needed it and he knew it.

Ryou beamed back.  “Good. Thank you.”  He pressed their foreheads together quickly.  “I’ll tell everyone, and then bring back breakfast.  Then more sleeping.”

“That sounds amazing, actually.” Shiro closed his eyes and smiled.  “Thanks, Ryou.”

“You’re welcome.”  He pulled away and patted Shiro a little too roughly on the cheek, just to watch him scrunch up his face.  Then he retrieved his slippers from last night and shuffled off.

By the time Ryou came back with breakfast, Shiro was fast asleep again.  This time, his face was relaxed and soft.

In the back of his mind, there was a purr, and a feeling of pride.

Ryou gave Yellow a mental pat on the head back, smiling.

Getting here had taken choices that no one should ever have to make.  Shiro had been taxed beyond his breaking point, and probably would be again.

But for the peaceful moments like this, it was worth it.

With that, Ryou put down the platter on the desk, then climbed into bed with his brother for a well earned rest.


End file.
